


saved by the bell

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, but also based on their dialogue exchange in the dlc, but also not really?, lmao it's a high school au, so spoiler alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: As always, Hapi is the new kid at school. Again.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Hapi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: FE Femslash February 2020





	saved by the bell

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Hilda and Hapi's dialogue exchange! but also for FEFemSlash February because why not.
> 
> **prompt:** trust

Only a few seconds after the end-of-period bell rings, the entire class is halfway out the doors — flooding out through the doors on either end of the room.

Well, except Hapi. Hapi takes her time, slowly stacking her things on top of one another in size order before gathering it up and making her way out of the classroom. She weaves between the desks, half in disarray from the sudden velocity of her classmates’ escape, every now and then using her hip to push in a chair.

She’s never understood the rush to get out of the classroom. What’s everyone trying to do? Get to the next class even faster? There isn’t any point in that when there’s a plentiful ten minutes between classes to stroll just three doors down the hall.

“Hapi, is it?”

Hapi turns to the front of the room, tucking a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear as she makes eye contact with Ms. Casagranda, who leans one hand on her desk at the front of the room.

“Yeah,” Hapi affirms.

Ms. Casagranda gives her a warm smile. “How are you finding things here?”

Hapi shrugs. “It’s fine.” She decides to offer the teacher a little more than a nonchalant response though, so she adds, “It’s only been about a week, so I’m still getting used to things, I guess.”

“That makes sense. Change always takes a little bit of time to adjust to,” Ms. Casagranda replies. “And I’m sure it is especially hard since you moved to this school in the middle of the year when everyone has already settled in.”

Hapi shrugs again, plastering a flat smile on her face. “It’s alright.”

Ms. Casagranda looks like she wants to say something more, but she just blinks and nods. “Okay then,” she says. “Well… please feel free to reach out to me if you need anything. The Academy can feel like a lonely place sometimes.”

Not sure what to respond, Hapi nods. It almost sounds like Ms. Casagranda might be talking about her own feelings, but Hapi decides to not linger on that thought for too long.

“Alright, I will,” she agrees. “Thank you, Ms. Casagranda.”

The teacher gives her another smile — this one slightly sadder than the first, and with that, Hapi continues her way to the next class. She steps out into the hallway, the familiar scents and sounds of high school wafting over her nose. A bit of lemon cleaner, overpowered male deodorant, bubblegum, and sneakers. The clang of metal lockers, the rattle of combination lockers, zipping backpacks, and as always, the incessant _chatter_ of all her peers.

Sure, Hapi may only be a sophomore, but she feels like she’s been sent back from the future to experience late adolescence all over. She’s tired and quite honestly _done_ with all the experience. With every move, she starts from zero again. And here she goes again, a new student in a new school in a new city.

Doesn’t matter how new every experience is. In the end, everything is all the same.

Sure, the students change, the teachers change, the classes change, the school building change, the best items in the cafeteria menu change — but ultimately, students are students, teachers are teachers, classes are classes, and the school building always needs some repair and the cafeteria workers always use an ice cream scoop to portion out the mashed potatoes.

It’s the same with families. Each and every family starts optimistic, adopting her and integrating her as much as possible. In the end, her presence unravels the problems and the drama previously swept under the rug. She becomes the catalyst for their trouble, and soon after, she becomes the monster wreaking havoc on their stability. They apologize to her and promise her that it’s not her. She moves onto the next family — and again, they welcome her with big smiles and warm hugs.

As always, she is the new kid again.

But Hapi has a two-step guideline for when she’s “the new kid,” and she plans to follow it through. She’s perfected her formula over time, and she thinks it works very well — thank you very much.

First, she keeps to herself, only talking as she needs in order to get through the day. The more words she puts out there, the more risk she takes in exposing herself more than she needs.

And second, she observes everyone. Watch who talks to who, listen to who talks about what, see who sits with who, figure out who lives where. And she’s good at that, simply observing and silently gathering all the information that dictated how this micro-bubble functioned. And she rather likes it — understanding the world from a distance.

Besides, there is no reason to make attachments or work on fitting in too soon. She knows she’s going to move pretty soon — within the year, who _knows_ where she’s going to end up?

At least no matter what, she knows she’s under the same evening sky. The stars ground her — wherever she goes, the constellations reassure her that she is still on the same cold rock in space.

But it’s not quite nightfall yet. For now, it’s time for third-period class. After this is lunch, and fifth period, and then home, and then sleep. And repeat all over again.

She suddenly feels the immense urge to sigh loudly but she decides it’s better to not draw too much attention to herself. Instead, she passes her stack of books into the crook of her left arm and stretches her other arm out as she rounds the hallway corner.

Unfortunately, while making the turn, she bumps hard into someone — well, it _smells_ like a guy — walking right into their chest and stumbling backwards a few steps. Her notebook slips off the top of her stack of books onto the ground.

“Sorry,” she apologizes quickly, bending down to pick up her notebook. A leg moves in front of her, preventing her hand from reaching it.

“Hey, aren’t you that _new girl_?”

Hapi inhales calmly, slowly straightening back to standing to look at the one, two, three boys in front of her. On quick glance of their combination of jersey jackets, sweatpants, tennis shoes, and the fact that they are brave enough to call her out in public, she guesses these three represent something between the popular and/or jock group in this school.

“Hapi, right?”

“What kind of a name is Hapi, anyway?”

“For a girl named Hapi, you sure don’t look it!”

They laugh among the three of them, giving each other congratulatory shoves on the shoulder.

“Yeah, you _are_ that new girl!” the one standing at center says. “I’d recognize those punk clothes from anywhere — you can’t mistake her for anyone else.”

“What are you, emo or some shit?”

“Terrible taste in music, by the way. What band is that on your shirt? Who even are they anyway, the—”

“The Ashen Wolves,” Hapi says.

One of them raises an eyebrow when she speaks, as if not expecting a peep from her.

“ _The Ashen Wolves_ ,” the other one of them mocks in a cracked pitch.

Hapi holds back another sigh. She will ignore these three. She will not allow them to get to her.

Hapi reaches down to get her notebook again, but again one of their legs steps in front of her to prevent her from doing so.

“What? You want your notebook back, nerd?”

“Yes,” Hapi replies, trying again. This time she’s a little more intentional about it, ducking her arm around quickly. Now a whole body steps in front of her notebook, blocking her book out of sight.

“What’s in here? Your secret messages?” One of them swipes her spiral book from the floor, flipping it open and rummaging through the pages.

“Stop it,” Hapi says.

The teenager looks up at her with an unempathetic smirk. “Why?”

“Oh, can you leave her alone?” a voice yells from behind her.

All three boys stop what they’re doing, their heads immediately snapping up.

“Oh! Hilda! Didn’t you see you there!”

Hapi turns around, seeing a girl walk up to them. Her straight pink hair is tied back into long pigtails, almost reaching past the hem of her jean short shorts — probably not appropriate dress code. She looks like one of those popular girls, with her perfectly manicured nails, multiple rings on her fingers, and a golden heart-shaped locket around her neck.

Hilda brushes past her to confront the three boys directly. She looks at the boy with Hapi’s notebook.

“Give me that,” she demands, immediately wrestling the notebook out of his hands. Hilda turns to Hapi, gently placing Hapi’s notebook on top of the textbook in Hapi’s arms. “There you go,” she says.

Then Hilda swings around again, both fists on her hips to face the three boys again. “Don’t you have better things to do than to bully someone?” she asks.

“Well, you know, Hilda, she’s new — we weren’t bullying her,” one of the boys says, both hands up as if to mollify her. “We were just giving her our welcome. And sometimes our welcome can be a little… forward.”

Hilda raises an eyebrow. “Forward?” she repeats. “Do I have to tell _my brother_ that you were being _forward_ with one of _my_ friends?”

The color quite literally drains out of all three boys’ faces.

“No, no, don’t worry! We’ll be on our way,” the boy on the right nervously laughs. “You don’t have to mention anything to Holst!”

Hilda cracks her knuckles. “Oh, don’t _you_ worry,” she warns, rolling up her sleeves. “Because by the time I’m through with you, there won’t _be_ anyone to tell him about.”

But then the warning bell rings.

Caught off guard, Hilda’s eyes snap over to the clock on the hallway wall. Two minutes to class.

By the time she redirects her attention back to the boys, the three of them have already fled halfway down the hall —saved by the bell, quite literally.

“Ugh,” Hilda groans, turning to Hapi. “I have to go to another boring lecture.”

Here, Hapi decides to let out the big sigh she’s been holding back since the start of the day.

Hilda perks up when hearing Hapi’s sigh and seeing the same unamused expression on her face. “Well, what class do you have next?”

“Fódlan History,” Hapi replies.

“Oh, same! Let’s go going,” Hilda then declares, quickly threading her arm around Hapi’s arm, linking them together. She heads off down the hall, dragging Hapi along. After a few steps, Hilda tilts her head in Hapi’s direction, attempting eye contact. “Your name’s Hapi, right?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Hapi.”

“Hm,” Hilda simply replies. After a moment, she adds. “Well then, Hapi. Look what you’ve done: You’ve made me all sweaty. Next time, fight idiot boys off yourself! Don’t make me do more work.”

Hapi peeps a glance at Hilda to assess if she’s joking.

Hilda’s not. She’s completely serious.

“I don’t know if I can trust myself to fend them off,” Hapi admits.

Hilda sighs exasperatedly. “Okay, _fine_. I can’t trust you to protect yourself, so if you can’t fight them off yourself, I guess _I_ can.”

Hapi only smiles in response.

New school, huh? Maybe this time around will be different.

**Author's Note:**

> you know where i am: [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep)  
> more about me: [carrd](https://ahumanintraining.carrd.co/)


End file.
